


Mornings

by anidalaas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Morning Cuddles, anakin and the smile only padme saw, anakin is a big softie, slight angst, theres a bit of crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anidalaas/pseuds/anidalaas
Summary: Anakin and Padmé and their morning routine.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 85





	Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little drabble I wrote and didn't edit so I'm sorry for grammar and spelling mistakes. Enjoy :)

When she was growing up, mornings were always her favorite. Waking up to the fresh Nubian air and the pink sun cresting above the rolling hills always brought a smile to her face. But now mornings hardly ever bring her joy. Now they only bring her a cold and empty bed or a promise that the man she loves will be leaving her again.

This morning brought her the latter.

Anakin's head was burrowed in her neck, his strong arms wrapped snugly around her waist, and his legs intertwined with hers. Her arms were slung over his shoulders, hands tracing meaningless shapes into his tan skin. He felt so good pressed against her like this; his presence was so solid, so strong, so tangible. He had been gone for so long she could hardly believe he was actually here in her arms.

The war was taking a toll on him, she saw it every time he came back to her. The bags under his eyes were always a little more deep, his brow always a little more stern, and his shoulders always a little more slumped. But the one thing about him that never changed was his smile. No matter how bad it got or how tired he was, he would always smile when he was with her. Not the smug grin she would see on the Holonet, not the smirk he would have when teasing Obi-Wan, but a smile. A _true_ smile.

His Padmé smile.

She felt his breathing catch and watched as he snuggled deeper into her neck. He let out a deep breath and nuzzled his nose under her chin.

“Good morning, love.” His voice was rough with sleep and she felt the words rumble in his chest as he said them. He was always so soft in the morning, from the way he spoke to his touch against her skin. She loved the way the sun made his hair glow in the soft light, the way his morning stubble would tickle her chin, the way his fingers would trace along the contours of her body. She always spent mornings like these taking in every detail of him; every twitch, every breath, every sound. She wanted every part of him burned into her memory, because she never knew which morning was going to be the last they shared. She wrapped her arms tighter around him.

“Good morning,” she finally whispered. He shifted, turning his head and propping his chin up above her chest so he could look at her. His eyes traced lazily over her face, as if he too wanted to remember every millisecond of time and every detail of her. The morning light made the scar on his eye look less harsh, and his eyes looked bluer than the lakes of Naboo. She smiled.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said, bringing her hand up and running it through his hair. He huffed out a laugh and kissed the spot at the very base of her throat.

“Isn’t that my line?”

She giggled, twirling the curl that always hid behind his ear between her fingers.

“It is,” she agreed, “but you’re still beautiful.” He sighed and moved himself up on the bed so they were at eye level.

“You’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen in the entire galaxy,” he said. They were so close their noses were brushing and she could see the specks of green swimming in the blue of his eyes. She smirked and brought a hand to the back of his head.

“I better be,” she said right before she brought his lips down to hers. Morning kisses were always slow, languid, the kind that warmed her from head to toe. He sank into her, bringing his body flush with hers. She wished she could bottle this feeling; every dip of his chest, every brush of his lips, every soft sigh he let out. This was Anakin Skywalker. Not the hardened war general that commanded armies and swung a lightsaber around. Not the stubborn (and somewhat arrogant) Jedi Knight that pulled reckless stunts and had seemingly no regard for his own well-being. Not the Hero With No Fear. Those things were part of him, sure, but that wasn’t who he truly was.

Anakin Skywalker was the man that cursed in Huttese when he stubbed his toe. Anakin Skywalker was the man that sang loudly in the shower, even though he couldn’t sing a single note in the right key. Anakin Skywalker was the man that would spend hours tinkering with a droid, even if there was nothing wrong with it. Anakin Skywalker was the man that looked at her with devotion she never thought was possible. Anakin Skywalker was the man that loved her unconditionally and truly. So yes, Anakin was all those things that the Jedi Council, and Obi-Wan, and the rest of the galaxy saw. But the most important aspects of him were the parts only she saw.

He broke their kiss with a content sigh and tucked her head under his chin. She felt his fingers tug at her curls as she dropped a kiss on his bare chest.

“I love mornings like these,” he said. She hummed in agreement and traced her fingers along the ridges of his stomach. “It’s always so quiet, and warm,” he continued, pulling her closer and snuggling deeper under the blankets. “Plus, you’re nice to wake up to.”

She felt a soft smile tug at her lips and her face flush with the sentiment. She looked up to see him looking down at her, eyes shining with emotion and lips quirked into a smirk. She reached up and gave him a quick kiss.

“Well you’re nice to wake up to also.”

His smirk turned into a smile (his Padmé smile) and he kissed her forehead. They laid like that for a while; holding each other tightly and soaking in the others presence. She knew this bubble would break soon, but she pushed away the feeling of dread coming up in her stomach and focused on how his chest rose and fell, the tiny scars on his bicep, the freckle on his shoulder. But no matter how hard she tried to stop time, the moment eventually came.

“I have to go soon.”

She tensed slightly at his words and gripped him tighter.

_Please don’t go. I don’t want you to leave. Why do you have to leave me? Stay with me, please._

She would never say those words out loud, because she knew if she asked him to he would stay. And he couldn’t. The galaxy needed him more. She let out a shuddering breath.

“How long?”

He was silent above her for a few moments, and she didn’t dare look up at him because she knew she would burst into tears if she did.

“I don’t know.”

She closed her eyes and fought the grimace off her face. _I don’t know_ always meant weeks, maybe even months. It was getting harder and harder to be away from him, and he was always gone longer than he was home. When he left a piece of her always left with him, and she was only whole when he came back. Just as much as she was the only one to see the true Anakin Skywalker, he was the only one to see the true Padmé Amidala. The one that burns toast and watches trashy holodramas and takes forever in the shower. She felt like herself when he was around.

She shook her head slightly and burrowed deeper into his chest.

“Just one more minute.” _Never leave. Please stay with me._ “One more.”

She felt him kiss the top of her head and sigh. “One more minute,” he agreed.

One minute turned into 10, and by the time he left he was running very late. He kissed her desperately before he went out the door, holding her face in his hands and pouring every ounce of love he had for her in it. It was always like this right before he left; clingy and raw and so so sad. Would this be the last time he held her? The last time he kissed her? The last time he left? Would he come back to her this time? She never knew, and neither did he, so every moment they shared was spent like it was their last together.

“I love you,” he spoke against her lips, “ _s_ _o much._ ” He pressed their foreheads together and looked into her eyes with such intensity she almost collapsed.

“I love you, too.”

He was gone before her handmaidens arrived for the day, and if they noticed the tears on her cheeks they never said a word.


End file.
